Game On
by CanadianWithEhBook
Summary: The Garrison V has not had a basket-ball team in ten years, this Friday. New kid, Lance McLain, isn't going to take no for an answer. Throwing together a quick rag-tag team before their deadline, Lance and the others, whether on this team to keep a scholarship or keep out of trouble, need to keep this thing afloat. But with Takashi Shirogane on the team, no one expects it to...
1. Chapter 1

**A/N :** Hey guys, I've had this idea forever and the first chapter written for months – And I think it's finally ready! And after all the crazy-ness, I think we could all use this! Apparently Season 7's supposed to floor us, so here's a nice, fun fic to keep us all just a little sane! Thanks so much for reading this, and please review and _tell me if you like it or not!_

 **Chapter 1-**

Garrison V Prep School has not had a basket-ball team for ten years, this Friday.

This was getting sad.

Lance, having it only being his second year here, had only just started complaining about it. This was his second year here at the Garrison V, as he joined a year late (funnily enough you need to have a green card before you can start applying to fancy schools.) And being the new kid, you really didn't want to start stirring things up. But as an official eleventh grader, basket ball season was getting ready to start up, and he _wasn't_ going to take this laying down.

"Come on, Hunk!" Lance pleaded, as he bugged his friend all the way down the hall.

"Huh, that's funny, as memory would serve I've already said _no_ a hundred times." Hunk replied, swatting off his friend as he continued to poke him.

" _Pleeeeeeease!"_ Lance pleaded.

"One hundred and one." Hunk said.

"What?" Lance asked.

"No!"

Lance sighed deeply, grabbing Hunk's arm and pulling him to the side of the hall, as to avoid the crowd. "Hunk, look. You need at _least_ five players to form a starting line up, and you really think it will do anything for me, walking into Zarkon's office with no players?"

"Lance.." Said Hunk nervously.

"I'll teach you!" he interrupted. "You can get scholarships for this kind of stuff! A picture in the yearbook, _girls-_ "

"Fine!" Hunk grumbled, because the most annoying this about having Lance as a best friend was that he _never_ lets anything go. "I'll do it. But _only_ if you 'recruit' that Keith guy, too." But that didn't mean Hunk couldn't have his fun…

" _What?!_ " Said Lance. "No. No, no, no, no. No way am I asking that _hair piece_ to be on the team!"

"Lance." Hunk reasoned. "He beats you on the courts _every_ _day_ after school-"

"-Not _every_ day-"

"- _And_ he's probably one of the most aggressive students at the Garrison V- he'd make a _killer_ defence. If you even want a _chance_ of getting this thing off the ground, then he's it." Before Lance could argue any more, the bell interrupted them. Hunk's face, having been enjoying distressing his friend, fell. "Now we're going to be late for Miss Altea's class. Great." Hunk said, looking over his shoulder and yelling "Think about it!" As he raced down the hall, not even waiting for his equally tardy friend to catch up.

Lance frowned. Be on a team with _him,_ or have no team at all. Lance watched Keith trudging down the hall and grimaced. That kid had a perpetual mood about him.

"Worth a shot." Lance mumbled.

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The bell rang throughout the school and the campus soon filled with rowdy teenagers. "This is a mistake." Lance said flatly, as they headed to the court.

" _Lance_." Pressured Hunk, because he wasn't about to let Lance off that easily. And the Cuban boy new that.

"I'm going, I'm going." He said, heading towards the court. He didn't even make it on before the taunting commenced.

"Come to lose again?" Keith smirked as the two approached, chest-passing the ball to Lance and walking across the outdoor cement court. "I'll even stand back here. Then you might have a shot at making it in."

"Funny." Lance remarked at the pun, pacing the ball back. "But this is where our rivalry needs to end." He said dramatically.

"Rivalry?" Keith asked.

"Yeah…" Lance said, dumbfounded. "You know, Lance and Keith, neck and neck?" Lance tried.

"What are you talking about?" Keith said.

Lance sighed. "You know what? This is for another day." He said, taking a deep breath, because they had work to do. "Now I'm gonna get straight to the point with this one, Mullet. I want to get Zarkon to get our school team up and running again, and I need players. You in?"

Keith's eyes met Lance's for a while before he passed the ball to some of the other kids on the court and said "I'll be right back." before finally walking over to the pair. "And what makes you think the 'Emperor's' gonna change his mind after, what has it been, a decade?"

"Student interest." Hunk said matter-of-factly, pulling out a small manual from his bag. "It says here in the student handbook that _'if students show, in accurate numbers that said sport requires, enthusiasm and participation to a physical actively that should not take place during school hours, and have representation/supervision from a willing, suitable and stable couch and faculty member, at said school, management must provide accommodations and playing time for students whom meet the physical and academic requirements.'"_

"English?" Asked Keith, with Lance nodding along.

Hunk sighed. "It _means_ that as long as we have enough willing people to join the team, find a couch and a faculty supervisor, Zarkon can't say no!"

"Who have you got so far, then? You need at least five people." Said Keith.

"I know that." Lance said bitterly. "There's me-"

"Not off to a great start." Keith interrupted.

" _And Hunk._ " Lance finished through clenched teeth.

"Do you even know how to play?" Keith asked, addressing the bigger man.

"Oh, running makes me nauseous." Hunk said sheepishly.

"Of course it does." Keith said, rolling his eyes.

"He'll _learn_." Lance bit out.

"Look," Keith sighed. "I'm just messing with you, relax. Getting to play some real ball ageist other teams _could_ be fun. If you're going to storm into Zarkon's office with some kind of petition, then you can put my name on it."

"Fine." Said Lance, spinning on his heal.

" _Thank you_ is what he means." Smiled Hunk, Keith returning it a bit as the two pals began walking back to the school, Hunk catching up quickly. No time for a pick-up game today, they had work to do.

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"Wait." Lance said as the pair made their way into the Garrison V, walking through the school halls on their way to the dorms. " _Why_ didn't we ask the other guys on the court, too? Man, come to think of it, we could just go down to the gym, the Football kids go out of their minds during dry season! Plus the Track teams gotta wait until the spring for the field to thaw; we could get _twenty_ signatures, no problem! We don't even _need_ Keith!"

"Slow your roll there, buddy. I'm way ahead of you." Hunk said, pulling out his handy dandy rule book. _Nerd_. "Says here that students can only commit to _one sports team a school year,_ as to not get in the way of Academics."

"That's so dumb! No one's coming to school to _learn._ "

Hunk face-palmed. " _How_ did you manage to get into this school?"

"I dunno, some dingbat even dumber than yours truly dropped out, made way for my awesomeness."

"Small slate." Hunk said, dodging Lance's hand as he ducked into the library.

"Whoa, wait a minute, what are we doing _here?"_ He asked, not stepping foot in the room since orientation. Lance isn't really all too good a being _quiet,_ and that's like, the only rule here.

"Trust me," Hunk whispered, making his way through the rows of books and their quiet readers, Lance in foot. There, at the back of the library was some kid hunched over some book thicker than his glasses, another three piles stacked high on a lonesome table.

"Small person, big mess." Lance laughed, elbowing Hunk to look.

" _That_ guy is who we're here to see." Hunk said.

Lance stopped, smile falling from his face as he looked at the thin kid who came up to his chest. "You're joking." He said dryly, but Hunk was already making his way to the table, Lance sulking behind.

"Hey, Pidge!" Hunk said as loud as he dared, sitting down as the table and pushing some notes over.

"Uh, hi." The kid said quietly, looking over at the guy as Lance carefully placed the heavy book bag on the floor and took its chair. "Hunk, right?" The kid asked.

"Yeah," he answered. "I'm in your Advanced Physics class..and your Young Engineers class, not in your math, though, because you're in the twelve's cores, even though you're what, _two_ grade levels beneath us?"

Lance held back his urge to scream, because not only was this the shortest, scrawniest kid he had ever seen, but Hunk was recruiting a _Freshmen._

Pidge starred bewildered at the kid who, up until this minuet, their only interaction had been ' _can I borrow a pencil?._ "Are you a stalker or something?" The kid said, eyeing Hunk.

" _Stalker_ is a strong word; the only thing I know is that you're here on a scholarship." Hunk once again pulled out his student handbook, that had almost become an extension of his right arm. Its spine was quickly wearing. "Thing is, it says here that all scholarship students _must_ be on at least _one_ extra-curricular activity _and_ sporting team."

"Yup." Said the kid standing up. "You're defiantly stalking me."

"Wait!" Said Hunk said, tone softening. "C'mon, I'm just trying to help you out here, look," He sighed. "I know you're in two clubs hoping it will make up for it, but _trust me,_ I tried the same thing a few years ago and _lost_ mine. Thankfully my mom scrounged up enough money and I got to finish out the term. Me and my buddy, Lance, we're really trying to make up a basket-ball team by Friday. Think about it." He said, standing up from the table and Lance, mesmerized up until this moment, following suit. "Or, there's always football." Hunk shrugged.

They made their way to the door, Lance quiet for once. "Hey, Stalker!" Pidge called. "You… you can put me on your makeshift list." He said quickly, going back to his book as if the interaction had never happened. Though Lance could see he was glancing up as they turned their backs, most likely wondering what the heck he had just gotten himself into. Much like Lance.

Hunk smiled, leaving the library before he would allow Lance to high-five him. Lance cheered, "That's four, baby!" He said, ignoring the fact that two of his _maybe-teammates_ have never played ball before. "Hey, I didn't know you were a scholarship student." Lane said with an awkward cough, thinking of all the times they had walked the halls of the Garrison V and heard students laughing about the _brainiac poor kids._ Sure he thought they were idiots, but never really thought too much of it. He never shut them up.

Oops..

Hunk shrugged. "My mom was out of a job when I got accepted, she wanted me to start off in Freshmen year just like everybody else, so that way I wouldn't be behind. It's no big deal." Hunk stopped himself, "No offence.." Hunk said, grimacing in realization that Lance had started late.

Lance ignored the weird feeling he got in his stomach that he had just developed. The fact that he hadn't known something like this about his best friend put an uneasy feeling in him. Maybe he _did_ need to listen more. He shook it off-like Hunk said, it was no big deal.

"Never mind that, Hunky Baby-"

"-Never say that again."

"-That's still only four. If we're gonna get this list to Zarkon by Friday, we're gonna need to start thinking, fast." Lance finished.

"Keith'll probably have some names for us." Hunk said.

Lance snorted. "That Hairpiece doesn't have any friends."

"And how many friends do you have again?" Hunk asked, shutting him up because he was talking to him only one right then. "Besides, I used to see him hanging around that Shiro kid _all_ the time."

" _Takashi Shirogane?"_ Lance said in disbelief, "Bull, no way he's cool enough to hang around that guy; I haven't seen them together _once._ Well, I mean, I guess he's cool enough _now."_ Lance said, laughing a bit.

"Yeah, they don't really hang out anymore. Come to think of it, they seemed to stop around the same time _you_ showed up. I think you're just bad luck." Hunk said slyly.

Lance ignored his comment before asking, " _Wait._ Keith hung around with Shiro when he was _still cool?!_ You're lying, you've _gotta_ be!"

"Hang on a second." Hunk stopped mid-hallway, getting bumped into by some other boys before moving to the side of the hall by the big window to continue the conversation, Lance following. "We could ask Shiro! He used to be the _best_ sparer in the school, be broke _every_ record-"

"- _And his hand."_ Lance said flatly.

"- _And."_ Hunk said, ignoring him, "He's not on any other sports teams, he perfect!"

"He's not on any other sports teams because no one will take him, Hunk!" Lance said. "We already have got two people on our list who don't even know how to play, and now you want to add on a crip to that equation? Zarkon will laugh us out the door!" His words were harsh but true- but the kid was stressed to the max. No way Lance could afford flight school, a basketball scholarship was his only chance. Feelings don't matter.

"Wow." Hunk said slowly. "For a kid who used to get beat up for his accent you're pretty quick to judge."

Lance stopped, face turning red for a brief second before. Much like that uneasy feeling, he shook it off. "I hate it when you're right." He muttered.

"Then you must despise me." Hunk laughed.

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A/N: Finally posted it! Reviews are love, please tell me if you like!

-Nova Scotia 3


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"Mister McLain… Mister McLain. _Lance!"_

The Cuban boy's head shot up from the desk where it had been laying peacefully, having received only a few hours of sleep since Zarkon had given him the Friday-list-curfew. "Seven?!" He blurted out. The class exploded.

Miss. Altea's eyes became even more frustrated. "This is History class, Mister McLain." She said with all the spark of a dead cat.

Lance's face burned, eyes darting over briefly to see that kid, Pidge(?), rolling his eyes in his direction. Lance opened his mouth to apologize, but a much more annoying voice filled the room first.

"Alteans." Keith answered, shooting a sideways glare at Lance, as if to say _moron._

"Correct." The teacher beamed. "It was the first nations group _Altea_ which was all but wiped out in the Western world at the turn of the century. Not- _seven."_ The young woman instructed. Again, the class laughed.

Lance forced his face not to flush and gave a sly smile. "Your voice is just so pretty your lessons sound just like a lullaby." He said, giving a wink. Now it was Allura's turn to flush, as the class gave an even bigger laugh.

"Oh, _barf_." Hunk, who was sitting next to him, said as he gave his friend a shove, knocking him out of his chair slightly.

Allura did her best to calm the lass down, but the riled up bunch just kept laughing and talking loudly for the last few minutes of class, until the merciful bell finally opted to release them. Lance, as usual, was the first out the door. Or, at least tried to be.

"A word, Lance." Miss. Altea called a bit too loud over the screeching of chairs and talking teens. There were some _oooos_ amongst the crowd, but nothing Lance couldn't handle as he made his way upstream of his classmates. Keith brushed harshly pasted him, his shoulder colliding with Lance's too hard to be an accident. Whatever, some people just can't take a joke. Let's see if Miss. Altea can…

He waited until the room was clear, and put on a weak smile. "Ah, Allura, you're looking lovely this morning."

"Miss. Altea." The woman corrected.

"Right, right… sorry." He mumbled, giving up hope and already hearing his mom's disappointed voice over the phone, once she gotten the call that her sixteen year old son had gotten into trouble in class- again.

"What's going on, Lance?" She asked in a sweet British accent, though her dark skin showed that she was an Altean Aboriginal, at least a descendant of one, and therefore as rare as a Holocaust survivor. "Inappropriate comments, as frowned upon as they are, are common for you. Sleeping in class, however, is not."

Resistance was futile.

So just like that, Lance heard himself telling Miss. Altea the whole story- Zarkon giving him a deadline that was up at the end of the day, and still not having a couch, or a facility member, or even enough players. Because what was the point? It would have been easier to get a cow off the ground rather then this harebrained scheme.

But then, just like that, something unexpected happened…

When Lance existed the classroom he immediately spotted Hunk through the crowded hall, leaning against the wall waiting for him. He was talking to Keith but once Lance approached, the Mullet disappeared into the crowd.

"What are you doing conversing with the enemy?" Lance asked, but Hunk just laughed.

"Just because you have some made-up rivalry with the guy doesn't mean I have to." The larger boy said with a slight smile and a roll of the eye. "Anyway, how much detention she give you?"

"Actually…" The boy said with bewildered eyes, "She offered to be our _couch."_

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"This is great, Lance!" Hunk sang as the two sat across from each other in the cafeteria. "Now we only need another player and an Ass. Couch!"

Lance stopped chewing. "Please never abbreviate _assistant couch_ ever again."

Hunk gestured with his eyes to the form sitting alone in the corner of the hall. "Whatever. You still gotta 'recruit' Shiro. Without him, this is all just a window dream."

Lance took a deep breath as he slipped himself out from the bench. "Yeah, hopefully he doesn't _eat me."_ Hunk threw a fry at his head as he walked away. If Hunk was wasting food, you knew he was serious.

Lance summoned all of his courage, and forced each step. He received some odd glances as it was unheard of to enter the same side of the cafeteria as Takashi Shirogane, let alone the same _table._ There was a clear cut line in the Garrison V cafeteria of where Takashi sat, and where the _rest of the school_ sat. There were at least three tables between the _basket case_ and the rest of society. Lance was basically a dead man to cross it.

 _What was he even going to say?_ Rumors were fierce and relentless when it came to the teen. Once the most popular kid at the Garrison V, and its best athlete, he had some kind of mental breakdown at the biggest wrestling match of the year. In the 'arena', he almost killed some kid, _(Sendak maybe?)_ who goes to the Galren Prep, the school across town and their sworn enemy. His arm is still so screwed up from it, having snapped almost all of the bones in his right hand, not to mention his arm.

Who knows, though? Every story is different, that's just the adaptation Lance had heard in the halls last semester (ironically, his _first_ semester). The only common thread throughout every story is that the guy _snapped._ That, and the fact that the school as opted to give the poor kid the sarcastic nickname of 'champion'. No damn fool dare say it to his still scared face, though…

And here he was walking over to him.

Lance's nervous heart thumped even louder with every step. He didn't even realize, until he snapped out of his trance, that his and Keith's eyes had been locked. And boy did _he_ look _pissed._ Before Lance knew it, the dark haired teen was blocking his path between the tables.

"Can I help you?" Lance asked, because lunch was almost over, and he had work to do.

"What are you doing going up to Shiro?" He asked, arms crossed tightly over his chest.

"What are you, his body guard?" Lance asked slyly, glancing over Keith's shoulder and seeing that Shiro hadn't even looked up from his book. "Because it really doesn't seem like he needs one."

"Answer the question." The boy bit. Whoa, what's _his_ problem?

"I need your permission?" Lance said, trying push past his shorter, _but stronger,_ peer.

Now let's review : Because to Lance, pushing past a kid after a semi-aggravated conversation wasn't a big deal. God bless this kid, but this was his first full year at the school, and he had never really been in a fight before. Beaten up, sure, but that didn't really count.

So to a small town Cuban kid, this was no big deal.

But-

To a kid who grew up in a group home and, not to Lance's knowledge, had already been suspended for almost breaking a kids jaw- on school property- after a nasty altercation, having someone 'push you', and a little bit of disrespect was _defiantly_ asking for a fight.

It was really just a miscommunication; one that might even be laughed about at a later date. But for right now, that was not even remotely the case.

Lance pushed by the kid, elbowing him a bit, though not purposely. The lanky teen was very surprised when he was pushed back. "You wanna go?" Keith said, giving Lance another shove.

"What?" Lance said, literally dumbfounded. "What are you talking about?"

But Keith just took this a Lance making fun of him. "I'm not an idiot!" He said.

God, Lance was so lost this altercation might as well have been math class! "I never said you were-!" But before he could say anything, he was flat on his back in the middle of the cafeteria, his head smashing against the floor.

He saw a gloved hand coming in for a swing, then a figure who was no less then _Shirogane himself_ , pulling the kid back. And just like that, his first 'fight' was over, and he passed out into cold darkness.

Right on the damn cafeteria floor.

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 **A/N:** Just a short little one to keep you going! Next chapter up in a tic! : )

I'd LOVE some reviews!

-Nova Scotia 3


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